


too much time on my hands

by convergent



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Richie Tozier Needs a Hug, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Soft Richie Tozier, Time Loop, Underage Drinking, some groundhog day bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21859048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convergent/pseuds/convergent
Summary: Richie decides to show up to school on time, once, and here he is: stuck in a time loop, getting sick of Styx altogether and having a drunken gay panic.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 140





	too much time on my hands

**DECEMBER 18TH**

_Yeah, I’m sitting on this barstool, talking like a damn fool_

_Got the twelve o’ clock news blues_

“More like the 7 o’ clock blues,” Richie grouched as he slammed the palm of his hand down on his alarm clock a few times until the lovely melody by Styx ceased. Seven A.M., Richie decided, was far too early to be able to enjoy his favorite song. Richie figured he should probably change the song to his alarm if he wanted to continue enjoying this shit. “Not enough time on my hands.”

Richie rolled out of the bed and blindly grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand. He slid them on, squinting a bit before his eyes settled and he could clearly see the wreckage in his room. Clothes scattered the floor, some dirty and some clean, Richie couldn’t tell. There was too many empty Coke bottles laying around and there was an old bag of chips that had been demolished, crumbs littering his floor. He decided to deal with it later, which frankly he had been doing the entire week, and go to the bathroom. He quickly brushed his teeth and attempted to tame his curls (which was also pointless, they were an entity of their own) before hurriedly throwing on clothes he knew were clean. They were the only articles folded in the entire room.

“Shit,” He muttered as he looked at his watch, noticing that he had ten minutes to bike to school if he wanted to make it on time. He quickly snatched his backpack from the floor and practically tumbled downstairs, not bothering with breakfast. He never really ate it anyways, never waking up early enough. “Fuuuuck.”

The cold air nipped at his cheeks, feeling like tiny pins and needles. It was midway through December, when the weather in Derry was harshest. Richie vaguely wondered where the time was going, how it had already been another year when it felt like only a few months. Somehow in the moment it felt like the year would never end, the day would never end, and now it’s time for it to start all over again. Derry High came into his line of sight and he groaned, never knowing what a day at the hellhole would bring him. At least he had the Losers, he figured.

Speaking of which, a certain short brown-haired boy and a fiery redhead stood outside the front of the building, no doubt waiting to see if Richie would show. Richie was starting to skip school a lot more since he turned sixteen and his parents started traveling more without him. That, and he almost never woke up to his alarms. Hence, Styx.

“Richie!” Beverly shouted with a teasing smile as Richie placed his bike on the rack. Richie smirked a little, jogging over to the two and practically attaching himself to Eddie.

“Spaghetti! Beaverly!” He exclaimed, playfully messing up Eddie’s styled little curls. Eddie scowled, elbowing Richie in the ribs, which made the trashmouth gasp in fake disbelief. “Knock it off, Richie,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Why the hell are you so late? We need to get to class!”

“Oh, Eddie,” Beverly said sweetly, laughing a little to herself. Richie and Eddie looked a bit confused. It was hard to tell what was going on in her head.

“C’mon, then! You’re gonna make me late!” Richie grabbed Eddie by the arm and tugged him towards the front doors, laughing to himself. Eddie scoffed, “You think you’re so funny, Trashmouth.”

“Because I am,” Richie shrugged, slowing down and letting Bev catch up to them. Eddie kept a quick pace, complaining about Richie the whole way. Richie tuned out most of his bickering, just smiling at the short spitfire. God, Richie really didn’t want to admit he had a thing. Because he definitely, one hundred fucking percent, did not have a crush on his best friend.

“See ya later, Bev,” Richie chuckled, nudging the redhead and following Eddie into their shared art class. Richie wasn’t into it, only took the class because he heard Eddie was. Eddie didn’t know that for sure, but every time he cringed at one of Richie’s half-assed self portraits that looked more like the planet Venus with glasses, Richie thought he knew. Eddie sat down at their desk, one of those tables that could seat two. Richie slid in next to him and propped his feet up on the desk, knowing he would be told to sit properly anyways.

“Hello class!” Mrs. Raine said cheerily, much too cheery for it to be this early in the morning. Her eyes scanned the room, raising her eyebrows when she saw Richie. “Richie, please take your shoes off my desk and sit properly, you know better.”

“You could always teach me-“

Eddie smacked his arm, making Richie chuckle and take his feet off the table, still slouching but meeting Mrs. Raine’s approval. She rolled her eyes but smiled a little despite herself, knowing Richie couldn’t think before he spoke, like ever.

Halfway through Richie’s ‘gazing hours’ (which was code for Richie ignoring the teacher and staring blankly out the window, thinking about Dig Dug and Eddie and oh shit, Eddie-) Eddie waved his hands in front of Richie’s face. “Huh?” Richie furrowed his eyebrows, turning his attention to the small boy.

“Ugh, idiot,” Eddie shook his head, “I wish you would just pay attention to me. Or the teacher. Or both.”

“Sorry, Eds,” Richie smiled sheepishly, “Listening now, though. Trashmouth at your service. How may I help you?”

“Now I have to repeat all of that,” Eddie rolled his eyes, although it was fond and Richie thought it was cute. No, he didn’t. “First, we have a project. We have to partner up and make up something of our own, it just has to be holiday related. Which, okay- but, yeah, she said it can be like a video or collage or painting or-“

“I get it, Eds,” Richie chuckled, and Eddie blushed.

“Yeah, so, figured we could come up with something and try to finish it tonight at Bill’s. Right! Okay, second thing: Bill’s parents are gone for the night and he wants the Losers to spend the night and uh- get drunk.”

“Oh, I’m so in. Beer really gets my creativity flowing,” Richie smirked, looking a little mischievous. He could tell it was making Eddie regret ever being his friend.

“I hate you.”

—

Nine hours later and the phone was ringing, making Richie trip over his own legs trying to pick it up. He was the only one home, so he figured it must be Eddie. Sure enough, Eddie’s voice came through the other line, “Hey, Rich? Do you want to hang out? I mean since we’re going to Bill’s in like an hour anyways-“

Richie genuinely frowned, looking down at his feet as he held the phone to his ear. He knew he really needed a shower, he also needed to clean up his room to find some cash to pitch in for the beer, and he was really trying to avoid his maybe-feelings for the boy. “Sorry, Eds,” Richie said softly, “I have to get a few things done. I’ll see you there, though, alright?”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie said, and Richie tried to ignore the disappointment that was evident in his best friend’s voice. He’ll be fine, Richie scowled to himself. “Bye, then. Be safe.”

“You too, Spaghetti,” Richie smiled a little, hanging up the phone and sighing to himself, running a hand through his messy curls. He jogged back upstairs and into his room, searching for his favorite black and white Hawaiian shirt and his best pair of jeans. Richie hadn’t ever, ever, cared about his appearance until he started developing this stupid crush on Eddie. He ran to the bathroom and got in the shower, cleaning himself and conjuring up some insane ideas for their art project (all of which he knew Eddie would object to).

Once Richie had cleaned up most of the clothes in the floor and piled them up in the corner of the room, he found about seven dollars and smiled smugly. He brushed his hair when he got out of the shower so that his curls dried in neater ringlets and grabbed his extra bag, shoving some pajamas and his toothbrush inside. He also brought his Walkman, just incase he got in his feelings when he got drunk. Wouldn’t be the first time, or the last time, he supposed.

When he was sure he had remembered everything, he hopped onto his bike and headed in the direction of Bill’s house, hoping Eddie wouldn’t be too upset with him when he arrived. Eddie sometimes got silent and that’s when Richie could tell he was unhappy. Richie absolutely hated it.

“Buh-buh-bill!” Richie yelled as he knocked and walked into Bill’s house, unsure of where the Losers were.

“DOWN HERE!” Someone shouted, sounded like Ben, and Richie opened the door and walked down into Bill’s basement. A wide smile spread across Richie’s face when he saw all of the Losers aside from Mike sitting in a circle on the floor.

“Oh, what’s this?” Richie smirked, “We playing spin the bottle?”

“No,” Beverly said in disgust, standing up and giving Richie a hug. “Beep beep.”

“Hmph,” Richie shook his head, looking over Beverly’s shoulder to see Eddie. Eddie was looking at the floor, looking a little unfocused. When Beverly let go of him, he took his place right next to Eddie and gently flicked his arm. “What’s goin’ on in the little guy’s head?”

“Nothing,” Eddie snapped out of his trance, looking at Richie like he was shocked that he had even shown up. Richie frowned a bit but nodded, leaning back against the couch that no one was sitting on (for some unknown reason). They were weird like that.

“Right,”

“Hey, Rich,” Ben smiled from the other side of Richie, patting him on the shoulder. “Heard you actually showed at school today. Sorry I missed that.”

Richie shrugged, “Got bored. Why were you skipping, Haystack?”

“I had a dentist appointment,” Ben said with a look of amusement, “Did spend the rest of the day in bed, though.”

“Ah, wild thing!” Richie exclaimed, making the other Losers giggle.

“R-Rich,” Bill caught his attention, “H-have you talked to Mike?”

“Nah,” Richie shook his head, “He late?”

“Very,” Stan noted, “Later than you, so that’s saying something.”

Richie laughed, not giving a single fuck, and threw an arm around Eddie. Eddie weakly attempted to shove him off, not really caring enough to put much effort in his attempts. Just as the conversation ended, they heard the front door opening upstairs and a hurried set of footsteps coming down. “There’s the man of the hour,” Beverly smiled, giving Mike a hug of his own.

Mike smiled guiltily, “Sorry, guys, got a little caught up at the farm. Got more beer, though.”

Sure enough, in Mike’s hands were two six packs. No one bothered to ask where he got it, as long as they had it. Bill had stolen a bottle of wine from his parents liquor cabinet and Beverly stole two more six packs from different stores in town. Their methods weren’t ideal, but there wasn’t much access to sixteen and seventeen year olds.

It was almost seven, but this seven was Richie’s favorite seven. The P.M. seven. There was a little TV located in the corner of the basement and Bill stood up and turned it on to a random TV show as background noise. “Should we start?” Ben asked, holding out his hand for someone to give him a beer.

“Please,” Richie groaned, leaning forward and grabbing both him and Ben a beer. Ben took it graciously and Stan looked disgusted.

“I don’t know how you all drink that shit,” Stan muttered, scooting the bottle of wine closer to himself. Stan wasn’t much of a drinker, but if he didn’t want to be the only one sober in a room full of Losers, he’d prefer wine.

“It’s not that b-bad,” Bill shrugged.

An hour later, they were all getting a buzz and Richie laid on his stomach, head resting on his hands as he looked up at Eddie. Eddie was still sitting, not paying any attention to Richie as he sipped on his second beer. “Eds?” Richie said curiously, grabbing his attention. “Why’re you being so quiet?”

“Sorry,” Eddie apologized quickly, trying to play it off, “Just distracted.”

“Hm,” Richie noted, looking over at Bill, “Hey Bill, your parents have actual liquor right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Bill nodded.

“Let’s get Eddie a shot,” Richie smirked, nudging the boy, “He’s thinking too much and it’s killing my buzz.”

“Oh shut up, Richie,” Eddie scowled, but he didn’t protest to the idea, so Bill was on his feet and jogging up the steps to get to the kitchen.

—

It had been two hours, and Richie was officially trashed. They literally trashed the trashmouth. Richie’s head was now in Eddie’s lap, and he was staring up at him like he was the center of the world. He could tell it was making Eddie a little uncomfortable, because he kept squirming and it kept jostling Richie’s head.

“Richie, are you even paying attention to me?”

Richie quickly looked away from Eddie, not knowing if his face was flushed from the alcohol or if he was blushing. Probably both. The voice belonged to Beverly, and she was now leaning over Ben to shake Richie’s shoulder. “Get the fuck up, let’s dance.”

Richie couldn’t deny he needed to start moving around, so he smirked and nodded, standing up and taking Beverly’s hand. Don’t You Want Me was playing and it wasn’t humanly possible for Richie to not dance to it. “You better change it back or we will both be sorryyyy!” Bev shouted, and as Richie spun her around the other Losers slowly chimed in, abruptly ending their individual conversations.

“Don’t you want me babyyyy!” Richie sung obnoxiously, looking to Eddie and winking suggestively. Eddie just looked away quickly and held back a laugh. Richie felt really, really good. He also felt really, really drunk, so he plopped back down beside the boy and leaned on his shoulder.

“You okay?” Eddie giggled, his voice soft.

“I’m perfect,” Richie said honestly, closing his eyes before realizing he was probably giving himself away and sat up straight. There was no way Sober!Richie would forgive Drunk!Richie if he gave away his crush.

After another hour a few of the Losers had started to move to the couch to sleep, being so drunk that they has started to spin. Stan and Bill had polished off the bottle of wine, and there was only four more beers to divide between him, Beverly and Eddie. Mike had cut himself off thirty minutes prior, and Ben was too drunk. Mike spread out his sleeping bag next to Ben’s, Stan and Bill had taken over the couch and Beverly claimed she was going to go upstairs to sleep on the other couch. “You all snore too much,” She laughed. “Keeps me up all night.”

That left Richie and Eddie on the floor, still, and Richie grabbed Eddie’s arm. “Wanna go outside for a minute? I need a smoke.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, clutching onto to Richie, “But you have to help me stand up.”

Richie couldn’t help from wheezing when they both struggled to lift themselves off the floor, the entire situation being funny to his drunken mind. “A-are you even trying?” Richie said between wheezes, making Eddie laugh uncontrollably. Richie shushed him, glancing over to find that their friends hadn’t even budged.

“Did you just shush me?” Eddie asked, clearly faking being offended. “You, of all people?”

“Don’t get used to it, I like ‘em loud,” Richie joked, finally standing up straight. Eddie stopped laughing and elbowed Richie’s side, which really didn’t go well for either of them. They avoided falling over and stumbled up the steps, trying to stay quiet as they passed Beverly asleep on the couch.

Once they walked outside, the two instantly shivered. “It’s cold as fuck!” Richie whisper-shouted, “Holy shit!”

Eddie smiled smugly, “I brought a jacket.”

“When the hell did you have time to do that?”

“Richie, I’ve had this on the whole night,” Eddie snorted.

“Rightttt.”

Richie reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, carefully pulling one out and sticking it between his lips. He grabbed his lighter and lit it, quickly realizing that he had lit the wrong side. “Oh my god,” He wheezed again, doubling over. Eddie looked beyond confused so Richie handed him the cigarette, and soon enough Eddie was on the ground. “You dumbass!” He laughed.

Richie looked over at Eddie, his laugh dying short as he watched his best friend laugh, his short curls bouncing and his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. He felt like he had entered a shitty romance movie, but he didn’t care. I’m in love with this boy, he thought to himself. It felt right. Maybe he was just drunk.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked softly, his cheeks turning pink as he caught his breath.

“Nothing,” Richie giggled, leaning against Eddie as he pulled out a new cigarette. “I just wish I could relive this night forever. Or something.”

—

_And I’ve given up hope for the afternoon soaps_

_And a bottle of cold brew_

Richie awoke with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed. _In bed?_ Richie looked around his room, his chest tight as he recalled the memories from last night and began to wonder how the fuck he made it home last night. Richie didn’t remember ever going to bed, much less biking all the way home. Richie held his hand to his forehead, not believing the fact that he wasn’t in the least bit hungover. In fact, it was like he never drank at all. As he took in his surroundings, he noticed the fact that clothes once again littered his floor and all of the old Coke bottles were still scattered across the floor and his dresser. There was not a single shirt in the corner of the room where he had piled them all yesterday.

Richie came to the conclusion very quickly that he must’ve had some weird kind of lucid dream. A very, very weird lucid dream where everything felt incredibly real and he could still remember every detail as if it actually happened.

Yesterday didn’t happen at all.

Richie checked the date and sure enough, it was December 18th. _Huh._

Richie turned off his alarm, telling himself he would change the song later. He got out of bed and tiptoed over empty bottles, making his way to the bathroom. Richie knew he didn’t have time to shower so he brushed his teeth, put on a hoodie and made his way out the door, not even bothering to fix his hair. He didn’t have the same energy as he did in his psycho dream. He biked to school, biting his lip as the cold wind hit his face. Everything felt eery, and didn’t he pass that same car yesterday?

When Richie got to the school, he spotted Beverly and Eddie in the same spot as they stood in his dream, which threw him off a little. He quickly placed his bike on the rack and jogged over to them, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed they were wearing the exact same outfits as they wore in his dream, too. Was he some kind of psychic now?

“Richie!” Beverly shouted, with that same teasing smile.

“Hey Bev, hey Eds,” Richie smiled uneasily, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie scoffed and pushed his arm away, “Knock it off, Richie. Why the hell are you so late? We need to get to class!”

“Oh, Eddie,” Beverly smiled again, knowingly. Richie slowly removed his arm from Eddie and bit his lip, conflicted. There was no way in hell this was happening to him. Did he predict the future? Oh, he was never letting them live this down if he really was psychic.

“Well, come on then, don’t wanna be late, Spaghetti,” Richie nervously smiled, grabbing Eddie’s arm like he did in his dream and tugging him towards the doors of the building. Eddie rolled his eyes, and sure enough, he spoke: “You think you’re so funny, Trashmouth.”

“Because I am…” Richie trailed off, his heart racing. Once again he caught himself ignoring Eddie’s ranting, his mind so far away that he couldn’t comprehend where he was even going.

“Slow down, Trashmouth,” Eddie glared, “You’re gonna pass the art room.”

“Sorry,” Richie said, his heart not in it, and pulled Eddie into the art room, muttering goodbye to Beverly and ignoring her worried eyes. Eddie took his seat and Richie plopped down in his own chair, tossing his feet up onto the table out of pure habit. He bit his lip, staring at the desk and trying to piece together how this could have happened.

“Hello class!” His head shot up as he looked at Mrs. Raine, who was also in the same ironed skirt as yesterday. She met his gaze and sighed, “Richie, please take your shoes off my desk and sit properly, you know better.”

“You could always teach me-“ He repeated, testing a new theory.

And, yes. Eddie smacked his arm in the same spot and he immediately removed his feet from the table, slouching in his seat. Richie dipped back into his ‘gazing hours’ without meaning to, staring at the swaying trees (wind was a bitch, he felt bad for those cold trees) and coming up with a list in his head. Here’s what he had so far:

One, he had a lucid dream. Two, he could now predict the future. Three, his friends and teachers were complete assholes and were playing a prank so grand that he probably wouldn’t have even been able to pull it off himself. Four, he was going insane.

He was knocked from his trance by Eddie’s small hands waving in his face, and, “Ugh, idiot,” Eddie shook his head, “I wish you would just pay attention to me. Or the teacher. Or both.”

“I was,” Richie argued, “We have a project.”

“Do you even know what its about?” Eddie shot back, although his eyes showed that he was surprised Richie even knew they had a project to begin with.

“Has to be holiday related,” Richie said slowly, unsure of himself, “…Right?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, so, figured we could come up with something and try to finish it tonight at Bill’s. Right! Okay, second thing: Bill’s parents are gone for the night and he wants the Losers to spend the night and uh- get drunk.”

“He-what?” Richie asked shocked. This has gone way too far- there was no way this was a joke. There was no way Eddie could have memorized his lines to the point of near perfection.

Eddie leaned closer to him, harshly whispering, “I just said he wants us to get drunk. Are you fucking deaf? What’s up with you today?”

“I’m fine,” Richie said quickly, “Beer really gets my creativity flowing, right?”

“I hate you.”

—

For the rest of the school day, Richie was both focused and in another world. If he focused too hard, he’d panic, because everything that was happening he had already been through before. Or, well, he had been through in his lucid dream. When he got home, he collapsed on his bed and shoved his face into his pillow, screaming.

Two minutes later, the phone was ringing.

Richie walked slowly down the stairs this time, dreading that Eddie was going to tell him that it had all been a prank. He also kind of wanted it to be a prank. When he picked up the phone, he mumbled, “Hey, Eds.”

“How’d you know it was me? Anyways, do you want to hang out? I mean since we’re going to Bill’s in like an hour anyways-“

“I can’t,” Richie cut him off immediately, his headache returning. “Sorry, that was harsh. I just meant I have to shower and stuff.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie says sadly, and Richie can’t even pretend not to hear the disappointment in his voice this time. His head and heart hurt.

“Bye Eds,” He mumbled, hanging up the phone and leaning against the wall, sliding down it and sitting on the ground. He took a deep breath and collected himself, rubbing a hand over his face and standing back up. “Fuck this.”

He took a quicker shower this time. He still tried to fix his hair, and this time he knew exactly where to find the crumbled dollar bills on his floor. That didn’t stop his heart from racing as he lifted a shirt and found the dollar bill sitting there in the same place. Richie’s anxiety had only ever been this bad when Bowers was around.

When Richie made it to Bill’s, he didn’t bother announcing his arrival and walked downstairs into the basement, greeted with the sight of all of the Losers huddled in the same circle. Once again, Mike was late. Beverly greeted him with a hug, Eddie was still staring at the floor. Richie slowly took his seat beside Eddie and stared at the boy, hoping it might ease his anxiety. It did, a little, but Eddie looked more upset than he did yesterday.

“Hey, you alright?” Richie asked, putting a shaky hand on top of Eddie’s shoulder, “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Eddie snapped again, a little harsher this time, and then he frowned. “I mean- just, beep beep.”

“Alright, alright,” Richie playfully raised his hands in the air in defense, trying not to sound offended.

“Hey, Rich,” Ben smiled from the other side of Richie, patting him on the shoulder. “Heard you actually showed at school today. Sorry I missed that.”

“Yep,” Richie fake-smiled, “And you laid in bed all day.”

“No,” Ben laughed, “I went to a dentist appointment. Then I laid in bed for the rest of the day.”

“Wild thing,” Richie said weakly, faking a laugh. The Losers didn’t notice, and they all laughed a little.

Bill looked at Richie and opened his mouth to speak, “H-have you talked to Mike?”

“No,” Richie shook his head, “I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“He’s later than you, so that’s saying something,” Stan muttered, smiling a little, and Richie couldn’t help but smile, even though it was all too familiar. As Richie predicted, the sound of the front door opening could be heard along with Mike’s rushed footsteps. He turned his attention back to Eddie, wrapping his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, knowing Eddie wouldn’t shove him off.

Except, this time, he did.

Before Richie could even get butthurt, he heard Beverly’s voice, “There’s the man of the hour!”

“Sorry, guys, got a little caught up at the farm. Got more beer, though,” Mike smiled, sheepish.

“Thank fuck,” Richie interrupted, leaning forward and grabbing a beer from the case in his hand. “Let’s get this fuckin’ show on the road.”

“I was thinking the same,” Ben giggled, reaching out to grab one of his own.

“I don’t know how you all drink that shit,” Stan groaned, grabbing the bottle of wine to himself. As expected, Bill mumbled, “It’s not that b-bad.”

Richie stared at the beer in his hand for a moment before opening it, chugging it all at once. He ignored Eddie’s stare and enjoyed the new sound of cheers from the Losers as he finished the bottle. “Someone had a long day,” Bev giggled, nursing her beer, “You alright, Rich?”

“Peachy,” Richie gulped, wiping the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie.

Eddie didn’t stop staring, but he did gently tap Richie’s arm. “Is this a new hoodie?” He mumbled softly, taking a beer from Bill without actually looking. Richie glanced down, even though he knew the hoodie was wearing, and shook his head, “Nah, I got it from your mom.”

“Richie,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “I was going to compliment you.”

“I’ll still take the compliment,” Richie smirked, determined to stay in this area of ‘new topics’. “So, that project…”

Richie purposely tuned out the other Losers since he knew what they were all going to say, and instead focused all of his attention on Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie seemed to cheer up a little at the mention of their art project, and was spitting out ideas left and right. Richie wasn’t processing much of what Eddie was ranting about, the kid always talked too damn fast, but he was having a perfectly good time getting drunk and hearing his voice. This time, he heard Beverly ask him to dance, he just ignored her intentionally.

“Are you even paying attention to me?”

“Don’t feel like dancing,” Richie whined drunkenly, impossibly more drunk than he had been in his lucid dream, or whatever. The reality of his situation was becoming a little more hazy with the more he drank. A lot of the conversations going on around him seemed new to him, and he figured in the dream he was too drunk to pay attention. He was too drunk now, too, but he got comfort in knowing that there was still some new things to hear that he had previously missed.

“Seriously?” Beverly and Eddie both asked in shock, Eddie cutting himself off from his rant in shock. “It’s _Don’t You Want Me_!”

“I’m perfectly comfy right here,” Richie rolled his eyes. Beverly shrugged and stood up, dancing by herself until she leaned down and grabbed Ben’s hands, convincing him to dance with her instead.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks seriously, but his face is red and his eyes are glossed over and Richie couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m perfect,” Richie said again, and he meant it, again. _Because you’re here_.

Soon everyone had gone to bed, leaving Richie and Eddie together. Richie tried to ignore the urge to smoke, knowing that the last thing he remembered was going outside with Eddie. He wasn’t sure what would come after. That actually concerned him. Sadly, Richie was drunk and forgot why he didn’t want to go outside. “Eds, will you go outside with me? I want to smoke.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said breathlessly, “But you have to help me stand up.”

After more wheezing and giggling, way more, because Richie was plastered, they made it off the floor and past Beverly’s sleeping form. When the cold air hit Richie’s face he quickly pulled his arms around himself. “Fuck, good thing I wore a hoodie. Forgot how fuckin’ cold it was.”

“I really do like this,” Eddie slurred slightly, eyes lighting up as he touched the fabric of Richie’s light purple hoodie. “Pretty color.”

“Pretty?” Richie rose his eyebrows, a happy smile dancing across his lips. “I’m glad you think so.”

Richie pulled out his pack and made sure to light the right end of his cigarette, laughing to himself at the (memory?).

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked curiously, leaning against Richie to keep warm.

“Nothing,” Richie said seriously, “Just wish-“

—

_Is it any wonder I’m not crazy?_

_Is it any wonder I’m sane at all?_

The second the scent of his own room hit Richie, his eyes shot open and he lurched forward in bed, his hands feeling the fabric of his own sheets. “What the FUCK!” Richie shouted, scrambling out of bed and proceeding to trip over a pair of jeans and land on his face. Apparently he hit something sharp, because when he touched his cheek there was a little drop of blood on the tip of his finger. “WHAT THE FUCK!”

He quickly stood and slammed his hand down on his alarm clock, forgetting to change the song again (and not caring, at all) as he checked the date. December fucking 18th.

“Oh my god,” Richie repeated like a mantra, rushing downstairs and grabbing the phone, quickly dialing Beverly’s number. Beverly picked up after a few seconds, “Hello?”

“Beverly,” Richie said desperately, “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Richie, what?” Beverly laughed, before going silent when Richie didn’t respond. “Wait, you’re serious? Rich, what’s going on?”

“I’ve already lived today!”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“Today. I lived it. Yesterday and the day before yesterday. I know it’s crazy, but I can prove it!” Richie rambled, his hands shaking as he tightly gripped the phone.

“Rich-“

“You’re wearing a yellow dress and a denim jacket.”

“Is this- are you fucking watching me right now? You’re an ass,” Beverly sighed down the line.

“Bev, seriously-“

She hung up.

Richie growled in frustration and ran back upstairs, hands tangled in his own hair, tugging. Richie put on black jeans and a striped shirt, not even glancing in the mirror as he hopped on his bike. He was determined to make it to school earlier, in hopes of getting Eddie alone before Beverly showed up. Problem was, he had no idea what time the two had gotten to school the past two days. Another problem- he wasn’t sure if Eddie would believe him, either. He had better luck with Eds believing him, though, because he could probably just predict a few things that were gonna happen and Eddie is sure to lose his shit.

Richie slammed his bike into the rack and turned to see that Eddie was, thankfully, sitting on the pavement alone, hands rummaging around in his fanny pack. Richie blew out a sigh of relief, just the sight of it warming his heart a little.

“Eddie,” Richie said, panting. Eddie jumped a little and looked up at him, concerned. “Well, you’re early.”

“Yeah,” Richie brushed it off, sitting beside Eddie on the pavement. It was cold, but the sunlight was shining directly on them and it felt nice. “Listen, I need to talk to you, I think I’m reliving the same day-“

“There you are!” Richie and Eddie’s heads shot up to see a blob of red hair shining in the sunlight.

“Beverly,” Eddie smiled sweetly, standing from the ground and holding a hand out towards Richie, wanting to help him up. Richie took his hand and stood from the ground, huffing in annoyance. He loved Bev, he did, but he needed to talk to Eddie alone. Another five minutes was all he needed, but the bell was about to ring already and talking about his crisis in the middle of the art room wouldn’t be the best idea he’s had.

“How’d you make it here before me if you were at my house?” Beverly questioned Richie, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I already told you!” Richie exclaimed, his hands flying out and accidentally hitting Eddie in the side. Eddie glared at him and brushed himself off. “This is the third December 18th I’ve had!”

“What the fuck?” Eddie squinted, “What is going on?”

“He thinks he’s living the same day over and over, or something,” Bev rolled her eyes, “Just the usual.”

“Ah,” Eddie rolled his eyes, this time being the one to take Richie’s arm, “C’mon, drama queen, we’re gonna be late to class.”

Richie facepalmed, but wasn’t too worried, because this meant they were headed to art class, where he was sure he could prove to Eddie that he was serious. When Eddie sat down, Richie stared at him, “Eddie,” He sighed, “Please just- just watch, okay? I’m serious.”

Eddie looked worried, but Richie knew there was no way in hell Eddie believed a word coming from his mouth. Richie put his feet on top of their table and leaned a little too close to Eddie’s ear, and Eddie visibly shivered. Richie would have to think about that later, because he could hear Mrs. Raine’s voice from outside the classroom door. “She’s going to come in, say ‘Hello Class!’ like the cheery bitch she is, and then she’s gonna tell me to take my feet off her desk because I ‘know better’.”

“Richie, she says that to you literally every morning.”

Sure enough, “Hello class!” She looks at Richie,“Richie, please take your shoes off my desk and sit properly, you know better.”

Eddie looked a little caught off guard, but said nothing, just tried to hold his poker face. Richie groaned, removing his feet without giving the woman a second glance and leaned back over to Eddie, “We have a project today. Gonna be holiday related and we get to pick what we want to do. Have to partner up.”

This time, Richie doesn't gaze out the window and makes a point of listening to the twenty minutes Mrs.Raine spends describing the project and the grading rubric. Eddie waits patiently until she finishes and gives them the rest of the class to pick their partners and brainstorm ideas. “This literally proves nothing.”

“Okay, well, is there something you’re wanting to ask me? About Bill’s tonight?” Richie asked pointedly.

“Oh, he already told you? He told me to tell you-“

“No, Eddie! I haven’t talked to Bill today, and I won’t until tonight,” Richie groaned, wanting to cry. He stared at the desk and tried to compose himself, wondering why the hell life treated him like shit.

“‘Chee…”

Richie feels a small hand rest itself on his shoulder, the touch warm and comforting but only because it’s Eddie. Fuck it, he thinks, I definitely like Eddie. Richie looks at him, eyes tired, and sees the concern written all over Eddie’s face as clear as day. This look was nothing new, Eddie was always concerned about everything. This time, though, he looks like he’s in pain. “Just- prove it to me.”

“I’m trying!”

The bell rings. Richie won’t see Eddie again until after school. At Bill’s… unless.

When Richie gets home, he heads straight for the phone. He sits under it, on the floor, and waits for Eddie’s call. It comes around the time it has been, and Richie answers on the first ring. “Yes, I want to hang out.”

“Wha-“ Eddie started, “Oh. I- yeah, that’s exactly what I was gonna ask.”

“I know,” Richie sighed, calmer now. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, should be done by the time you get here. Just let yourself in. Be safe.”

He hangs up. Richie ran upstairs and into his bathroom, forgetting to grab a change of clothes, and gets in the shower. He stands under the hot spray of water, resting his head against the cool tile of the wall. He tried taking a few breaths, but knowing he was supposed to be making this quick did nothing to calm his nerves. His mind was racing in all kinds of directions- the only goal being to prove to Eddie that he was serious. Hell, he wouldn’t believe himself, either.

When he finished cleaning himself off, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, flinching at the cold air. That’s when he looked at the counter of his sink and realized he hadn’t brought any clean clothes into the bathroom with him, and wraps a towel tightly around his waist. He could only hope Eddie hadn’t made it yet. Unsurprisingly, due to Richie’s luck these days, Eddie is sitting with his legs crossed on Richie’s bed, looking at the mess in his room with pure disgust. “Sorry about that,” Richie sighed, and Eddie jumps ten feet into the air. Richie smiled a bit at that, and then noticed the bright red blush that Eddie was sporting. Oh, yeah, he wasn’t wearing any clothes. “Uh- and sorry about this, too.”

“I-It’s fine,” Eddie stuttered, looking away quickly and focusing on the white walls of his room. Richie shrugged and bent down to pick up a clean pair of underwear, finding a random pair of jeans and then snatching an ugly patterned sweater from his closet. He walked back into the bathroom to change and then quickly joined Eddie on his bed. The blush had faded from Eddie’s face as he made eye contact, “Tell me what’s going on with you.”

So, Richie told him. From start to finish, how the past two days had gone.

“And I’m scared it won’t end, Eds.”

Eddie was silent, so silent. He let out a deep breath and grabbed Richie’s hand, which somehow managed to make Richie’s heart race faster. “Say something, please.”

“Then-“ Eddie mumbled, trailing off as if he’s at a loss for words. “Just- uh, just keep telling me. Every day, I mean. Because if I believe you right now, I’m sure I’ll believe you tomorrow, or today- too?”

“You believe me?” Richie asked, and Eddie scowled for a moment, thinking Richie was about to say it was all a joke. He watched Richie for a moment, noting that he wasn’t laughing, and nodded.

—

This time, Richie and Eddie arrived at Bill’s together. Richie wished Eddie was still holding his hand, because he wasn’t completely sure how the night would end with Eddie knowing that he was in some kind of loop. Time loop, they had decided. Or something like that.

The night went pretty much the same, besides Eddie’s hand that rested at the bottom of Richie’s back. When it was time for the Losers to go to bed, Richie told Eddie. Eddie watched, a little drunk and a lot curious. “How is this happening to you?” Eddie mumbled sadly, his voice slurred. “Do you think it’ll happen to both of us now?”

“I dunno,” Richie hiccuped, laughing sadly. “Is it bad that I wish I wasn’t alone?”

“Of course not, ‘Chee,” Eddie frowned, taking Richie’s hand again and playing with his fingers gently. Richie was trying hard not to lace their fingers together. “I would do it with you if I could. Don’t wan’ you to be alone.”

Richie didn’t want to go outside this time. It was too cold. Eddie was warm, so he hesitantly scooted a little closer to the small boy and laid his head on his shoulder. Eddie didn’t shove him away, or even flinch, he just snuggled into Richie’s side.

“How do you feel right now?” Eddie slurred.

“Perfect,” Richie said honestly, “Wish I had more time with you.”

—

_Well, I’m so tired of losing, I got nothing to do_

_And all day to do it_

_Well, I’d go out cruisin’ but I’ve got no place to go_

_And all night to get there_

Richie sobbed. He turned in bed, took the alarm clock in his hands and chucked it across the room, watching it hit the wall. It didn’t shatter into pieces, didn’t even break, but the music ceased and he covered his head with his pillow. It was only the fourth day and Richie felt himself losing it. As he cried into his pillow, he decided he wasn’t going to school today. There was nothing in the world that could make him go to school again.

After thirty minutes of shallow breaths and swirling thoughts, he was officially late. He could picture Beverly and Eddie perfectly - waiting for him outside the front doors, Beverly dressed in that bright yellow dress and Eddie in his light blue Polo shirt. He could hear Beverly yelling his name, Eddie telling him that they were gonna be late. He wondered what they were thinking now, knowing he was skipping school again. God, they had been on his ass about that lately.

What they don’t know, and would never know, was that he had showed up to school on time the past three days, even greeted them and walked with Eddie to class.

“Fuck,” Richie cursed, getting out of bed and standing in the middle of his room with no purpose. He knew if he cleaned his room it would just go right back to being a shitshow. He knew if he went to school that he’d learn about the same dumb shit, or just go into his ‘gazing hours’ and not get shit done. At least now the Losers could scold him for not going to school, bringing in a new conversation.

Richie needed a cigarette.

He cracked open his bedroom window and sat beside it, placing a cigarette between his pale lips and lighting it up, inhaling the smoke and blowing it out slowly. He stared at the cloud of smoke rolling out into the wind, flinching when particularly cold breezes entered his room.

Half of Richie’s day ended up being spent in bed moping, making too many bowls of cereal and flying through his only pack of cigarettes. When it was about twenty minutes after school let out, Richie got the phone call.

“Eddie, can I come over?” Richie said down the line before Eddie could even say hello.

“‘Chee? Yeah, yeah, I was just about to ask-“

“Cool. See you soon.” Richie didn’t bother with showering. He just pulled on a soft flannel and climbed onto his bike, riding in silence to Eddie’s house. He let out a sigh of relief (followed by the sight of his own breath, fuck the cold) when he saw that Mrs.K’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Had Eddie been trying to get Richie to come over to his house this whole time?

Richie brought his bike around back and hid it in one of the bushes before waltzing in through the front door, not bothering to knock. Eddie was waiting for him in the living room, sitting on the couch. “Rich!” He exclaimed, standing from the couch and… smiling? Was he not mad that Richie had skipped?

“Hey,” Richie smiled softly at his boy.

“I was gonna tell you today at school- fuck you for skipping by the way - “ There it was. “My mom’s out of town tonight!”

“Wait, really?” Richie asked, eyebrows raised. “Does that mean I won’t be getting laid tonight?”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Eddie shook his head, walking to Richie and hugging him. Richie was shocked but didn’t complain, they hugged often. Richie hugged back gently and without meaning to, inhaled the sweet scent of Eddie’s shampoo. Richie really needed a hug. Eddie let go of him, cheeks pink, and smiled again, “I was gonna say, Bill wants us to go to his house tonight and drink. I was wondering, though, if you maybe wanted to just chill here with me tonight?”

“What-“ Richie started.

“I mean, we don’t have to! I’ll go to Bill’s if you're going, obviously- and-“

“That sounds so great,” Richie cut him off, “Like so fucking great. You have no idea the week I’ve been having- oh my god, like, so-“

Yeah, nope, let’s not ruin a perfectly good night by bringing up his crisis.

“-so, great.”

Eddie looked pleased and surprised, “Oh, well, good. Mom’s got some wine, too, so, we could still… drink.”

—

Richie was in pure bliss. Wine drunk was different than beer drunk, and Richie was quickly picking up on the fact that he got a lot more touchy when he was drinking wine. In fact, they both did, because Eddie’s head was in his lap and he kept tracing little circles on Richie’s knee, which was very distracting.

“I’m glad you wanted to stay over,” Eddie mumbled with his little slur that was becoming more and more adorable.

“‘Course, always wanna spend some quality time with my Spaghetti.”

“Stop callin’ me that,” Eddie rolled his eyes, sitting up from Richie’s lap and facing him. “Richie, I-“

The phone was ringing. “Shit, that might be my mom,” Eddie said, wide-eyed and suddenly ten times more sober. He ran to the phone down the hallway and Richie could hear his muffled voice as he spoke to the person on the other line. Richie grabbed Eddie’s blanket that was on the back of the couch and covered himself up, suddenly cold without Eddie’s presence.

“God, why isn’t there ever enough time?” He moaned to himself, and Eddie’s voice got more muffled.

—

_Is it any wonder I’m not a criminal?_

_Is it any wonder I’m not in jail?_

Richie didn’t sob, he didn’t scream, he didn’t move for a moment. Just let the song play on, huffing out a little sigh. Once the line hits, he jolts up. He turns off the alarm properly for the first time, and rests against the headboard as he thought. He thought for five minutes and then it hit him all at once.

He could do whatever the fuck he pleases.

Richie figured anyone whose ever been in a time loop probably stumbles upon this realization, and it probably took them longer than five days. He couldn’t be sure if anyone else had ever been stuck in a time loop beside himself, though, and he figured if it wasn’t gonna end anytime soon, he might as well get started.

He took a shower, spent extra time styling his curls into nice ringlets, and removed his glasses. “Okay,” Richie muttered, starting at the contact case in front of him. Richie never, ever wore his contacts. In fact, no one besides his parents even knew he owned them. They were uncomfortable, if they were dirty it felt like stabbing yourself in the eye, and it really sucked when they got dry.

Once he finally got the little demons in, he blinked a few times and stared at himself. He could see all the details of his face, realizing he had gotten way more freckles over the summer then he had thought. Richie quickly realized why he looked so different- he looked good.

He dug around on the floor until he found the clean pair of black jeans, and then found his favorite Hawaiian shirt. He noticed he was already late but there was still another half hour left of art class, and he looked a little smug as he snatched his Walkman off his dresser.

The tune of _Come and Get Your Love_ filled his ears and he nodded his head along to the beat as he rode his bike towards the school. He placed his bike on the rack and ran his hand through his curls one last time, fixing them from the wind. He practically skipped to class, music still blaring through his headphones. When he entered the classroom, he realized he hadn’t even thought to grab his backpack. Then he decided he could give a fuck less.

Eyes snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and a collective gasp rang from the students. Richie knew he looked good when he left the house without his glasses, but apparently he looked so different that half his classmates looked like they had just laid eyes on a new student. Especially Eddie.

Eddie, whose mouth was practically on the floor, cheeks so red that it put lobsters to absolute shame. He quickly composed himself when Richie met his gaze with a little smirk. “Sorry for being late, but when it Raine’s it pours, right?”

Mrs. Raine looked both shocked and angry at his comment, but Richie paid her no mind as he slipped his headphones off his head and stopped the music. He walked to his seat and plopped down beside Eddie, smiling smugly, “Hey, Eds!”

“R-Richie, what?” Eddie looked him over again, his cheeks still red. “Your glasses-‘

“Ditched them for the day. Got contacts,” Richie shrugged, “How do I look?”

“You look-“

“Mr.Tozier,” Mrs.Raine said sternly, “Please pay attention, since you decided to show up late to my class.”

“Yeah, yeah, the project,” Richie nodded, “Already heard about it.”

Confused was one way to describe the look on her face.

“So, Eds, you were saying?”

—

Eddie never got to finish his sentence, and Richie ended up skipping halfway through the day because he… could, he supposed. Instead, he walked into the convenience store, stole a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of wine while no one was looking and shoved them into his backpack. Why not pregame, right?

Needless to say, by the time the Losers got out of school, Richie was well on his way to being drunk. Eddie must’ve told them what was going on, because Eddie was at his door in no time, knocking loudly. Richie nearly tumbled down the steps and made his way to the front door, swinging it wide open.

“What a surprise! My favorite person!” Richie giggled, pulling Eddie inside and into a hug.

“‘Chee, you smell like- is that wine?” Eddie sniffed, eyebrows furrowed in the cutest way.

“Well wouldn’t you be day drinking if you had to relive the same day over and over again?”

An hour later and Richie was taking another swig of his wine, watching as Eddie processed his chaotic story. Richie found that it was much easier to talk about when he wasn’t sober. Muuuccchhhh easier.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie settled on.

“Yeah, me too,” Richie sighed, “Here, have some.”

“I’m good,” Eddie says this time, denying alcohol.

“Huh. That’s new.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, then?” Eddie asked tentatively. “New things?”

“Yeah.”

“I like your contacts. You really do look good,” He said softly.

“Think so?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?!” Eddie shrieked, almost falling off the couch, and his face was quickly becoming red again.

“Yup, definitely gonna kiss you if you don’t stop me,” Richie nodded, trying to push away his nerves and remind himself that this might break his own heart.

Eddie didn’t move, so Richie cupped his face and placed a quick, kinda sloppy kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“Oh,” Eddie whispered, staring into Richie’s eyes now that they were so much closer.

“Nap with me?” Richie asked softly, leaning his forehead against Eddie’s.

“That’d be good,” Eddie nodded, a dazed look in his eyes.

“Wanna make my own ending of the day,” Richie muttered, “If that makes sense.”

He kisses Eddie’s lips gently, once more, savoring the feeling because it would never, ever happen again.

—

_Is it any wonder I’ve got too much time on my hands?_

_It’s ticking away with my sanity_

_I’ve got too much time on my hands_

_It’s hard to believe such a calamity_

Richie called Eddie the second he woke up, still high off the thrill of not being shoved away when he kissed the small boy.

“Eds, since your mom isn’t home, wanna skip with me today?”

“How’d you know my mom isn’t- nevermind, I can’t, Rich,” Eddie complained down the other line, the anxiety in his voice already evident even though he was saying no.

“Please?”

“I hate you. I’ll be over in a bit,” Eddie huffed, hanging up on him.

Richie smiled, laying back down and closing his eyes for just a little longer.

A little longer travelled into about thirty minutes, because he woke up to Eddie shaking his shoulders. Richie jumped up, holding a hand to his heart and cursing like a sailor, no surprise there. Eddie had obviously taken a shower if his damp curls were any indication, and he smelled strongly of green apple shampoo. Richie loved it.

“Really, you invited me to skip just to nap?”

“You enjoy napping with me,” Richie grinned, and Eddie looked a little confused but Richie paid it no mind. “I hope you’re mentally stable because this is about to blow your mind for the… third time, I think?”

—

“WE KISSED?”

“Is that all you got out of that?!” Richie exclaimed, sitting up straighter in bed. “I just spent half an hour telling you that I might never experience December 19th!”

“Well excuse me for being bitter about not remembering our first kiss,” Eddie argued, a deep frown covering his features.

“Oh,” Richie said, surprised. “I didn’t think, you know- that you really wanted to kiss me. Fuck, well, I mean- we could, do that again.”

Eddie scoffed, and face-palmed. Richie was getting a bit overwhelmed and grabbed Eddie’s hand for comfort. He sighed, “Eds. Can’t read fuckin’ minds, here.”

“I had this whole thing planned after school today,” Eddie started slowly, and he kind of looked like he was about to cry. Richie felt his heart break a little. “After school I was gonna call you and see if- well you already fucking know. Anyways, yeah, I was calling because I had a night planned for us if you agreed to stay over. I was gonna steal some wine from my mom- which I guess I did- but I never did what I was gonna do- fuck! I’ve been planning to tell you how I felt today for weeks and now I’ve kissed you and don’t even remember?!”

“I-“

“No, Richie, this fucking sucks!”

Richie’s lips parted, he wanted to say something but that was a lot to take in. Richie paused and realized that it kind of made a little sense, and that hurt. To think on the first (original) December 18th, he had turned Eddie down. Said no to hanging out. “I don’t want it to suck, Eddie,” He said finally, “It was the happiest moment of my life and no matter how many times I kiss you, each one will be even better. I’m sure of that.”

Eddie sniffled a little, overwhelmed, and he laughed a little.

Richie smiled and leaned down a little, kissing the top of Eddie’s head. “I’m so in love with you.”

“I want to remember this,” Eddie teared up again, “Are you saying I won’t remember the first time you say ‘I love you’ either?”

“I don’t know, Eds,” Richie smiled sadly, “But it’ll be worth it. I’ll just tell you again. Hopefully, tomorrow.”

“Then kiss me tomorrow.”

“I will, I promise.”

—

_Too much time on my hands_

_(And I don’t know what to do with myself)_

Richie didn’t think it was possible to start crying less than sixty seconds after you’ve woken up, but he was sniffling and he felt lower than he had in- ever. His tears quickly turning into sobs and he was shaking and-

“Richie?” A tired voice mumbled. “Are you okay?”

Richie screamed, thrashing around and coming face to face with Eddie, who was now screaming louder. “Holy shit!”

“Richie, what the FUCK!”

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” Richie squealed, struggling to wipe the tears from his eyes, “What fuckin’ day is it?”

Eddie looked at the calendar and back to Richie and then it seemed to have dawned on him why Richie was crying, and why he was now screaming. A smile slowly made its way across Eddie’s soft face and he wrapped his arms around his lanky best friend. “It’s the 19th. It’s December 19th, ‘Chee.”

“I love you,” Richie blurted, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Eddie blushed and shook his head, “Don’t wear it out, Trashmouth. You owe me something, I think.”

Richie kissed him, hard. Tears and all.

Richie didn’t know for sure why it happened. One thing he did know, as he slammed his hand down on the alarm clock and turned back to Eddie, was that he was definitely changing that fucking song. Today.

_I’ve got too much time on my hands_

_And it’s ticking away,_

_Ticking away from me_

_Too much time on my hands_

**Author's Note:**

> Stayed up way too late writing this shit so show it some love plz:(


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